


Home is Nowhere (Therefore, You)

by Moriavis



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Coldflash Week 2017, First Kiss, Hopeful Ending, Leonard Snart is an Asshole, M/M, Mostly Canon Compliant, canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 05:44:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10587645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moriavis/pseuds/Moriavis
Summary: The night before Len left to join the crew of the Waverider, he contacted Barry one last time. He could admit it wasn't his best decision.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, as always to my wonderful friends and betas, kisahawklin and saekhwa. This marks the first time I've contributed more than one piece to any of the coldflash weeks, so I'm kind of thrilled. :DDD
> 
> The title is taken from [You, Therefore](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/49268) a poem by Reginald Shepherd.

~*~

Leonard took the glass in one gloved hand and sipped it as he stared hard at the bar, working to get his head clear and his thoughts in order.

Three years ago, Mick had come to him and called him his hero.

Last night, Rip Hunter extended the offer to join the crew of the Waverider.

Leonard knew enough to put the pieces together. He wasn't a stupid man, by any means, but he still found himself sitting at that bar, thinking about the future before him and waiting for the impossible.

"Snart?" 

So. He'd made it after all. Leonard downed his drink and set it on the bar before he chanced a look to his left. Barry Allen took the barstool next to him and rubbed his yellow-gloved hands against his jeans.

Leonard nodded at the bartender, who came over and poured him another drink. Leonard smirked and raised the glass, acknowledging Barry with a nod. "Barry."

"I was surprised you texted me," Barry said after a moment. "I didn't even know you had my number."

Leonard shook his head. "You don't expect me to reveal my secrets, do you?"

"Wouldn't be you if you did." Barry fell silent and rested his elbows on the bar. He shot a look at Leonard from the corner of his eye every few seconds, but Leonard didn't take the bait. He wanted this to last as long as possible, just in case he couldn't bring himself to follow through. He shouldn't follow through. "Did you want to talk about something, or did you just want company?"

Leonard took a breath, and knew, deeply, intensely, that asking Barry here had been a terrible idea. "Just company."

"Oh," Barry said again, and he ordered a water from the bartender, grimacing at the annoyed look she gave him. They sat in silence until Leonard could bring himself to talk again.

"How's your soulmate?" The word tremored through Leonard, like a rock thrown into a pond, leaving ripples in the calm surface of his mind. It was a painful reminder, a masochistic punch to his gut. He used to be better than this.

"Iris?" Barry tensed at the sound of her name, his shoulders drawing up. "She's okay. I, uh—what made you bring her up?"

Leonard shrugged. "I can't be curious?"

"Not about Iris, you can't." Barry frowned, and Leonard watched the way the lights of the dimly-lit bar cast shadows over his face, memorizing every second before Barry inevitably left.

Leonard grunted in response to Barry's words, just so he knew Leonard was listening, and weighed the pros and cons of revealing his hand. One touch, and he could upend Barry's life, make it stranger, take something for himself before he left. Or nothing would happen, and Leonard really was… attached… to someone who couldn't feel the same. "I have a confession."

Barry cocked his head to the side, watching him with determined eyes, and Leonard usually saw that look veiled in the Flash's cowl. Seeing it on Barry Allen's face made something squirm uncomfortably in his belly. "You haven't killed someone, have you?"

Leonard snorted. "Our deal still stands."

Barry exhaled, the tension flowing out of him, and his eyes softened. "You're acting cagier than usual, Snart. Is Lisa okay?"

Lisa. Leonard had made different provisions for her. She wouldn't want for anything while he was gone. "She's fine."

"Okay." Barry wasn't entirely convinced, but he leaned back, tapping his foot against the rung of his barstool as he drank his water. "So… what's this confession then?"

Leonard pulled off his gray gloves and set them to the side, flexing his fingers and letting them breathe for a minute before he flattened them against the rough wood grain of the bar.

Barry stiffened, and Leonard stole a glance at him, watching the way Barry looked from the gloves to his hands. Barry's hand twitched toward Leonard's before his eyes went wide and then narrowed with realization. "You haven't—why are you wearing those gloves if you haven't—"

"Found a soulmate?" Leonard finished wryly. "After a while, you get tired of trying. Tired of strangers touching you. I'm a thief and a killer—a little bond fraud isn't going to be what ends me."

"So why are you showing me—oh." Leonard could see the moment it finally clicked for Barry, why Leonard would confess that particular truth to him. His face crumpled, and he curled his hands into fists. When Barry opened his eyes again, they were warm with sympathy, and it made Leonard's chest ache. "Snart, I've already got a soulmate, but—you know, I'm—I'm flattered—"

"Cut the crap." Somehow, it stung worse that Barry wasn't even curious enough to try, that he was so satisfied with his old bond. It was a long shot, of course he knew that, but… "I don't want your pity." He dug money out of his pocket and set it on the bar to pay for his drinks and then pulled on his gloves in tight, sharp movements. "Don't know what I was thinking. Forget about it, kid. Not interested in excuses."

"Snart, that's not what I—" Barry almost fell backward off the barstool to keep up with Leonard, his foot getting caught up in the barstool rung, but Leonard didn't bother to wait, stalking through the door and into the chilly evening air.

He was three steps from his bike when the world blurred around him, his stomach lurching into his throat, and when he stumbled to a stop and fought down the urge to throw up, he looked around, casing his surroundings in seconds.

He was in the apartment Barry shared with Iris, and he clearly remembered how only a few months before, he'd let his obsession get the best of him, how he'd broken in under the pretense of offering Barry information when what he'd really wanted was something more intangible.

Barry was between him and the door. He didn't have his gun. The room was spinning around him in lazy circles, his fingers tingling, and he couldn't seem to catch his breath. This wasn't part of the plan. The bar had been neutral territory, but being here was too intense, too personal.

"I have to admit, I didn't think you'd be bringing him home with you tonight," Iris said, and Leonard jerked his eyes toward her, noting her perfect makeup, the purse dangling from the bend of her elbow. "But in hindsight, I'm not surprised."

Barry rubbed the back of his head. "I'm sorry, I just—needed somewhere safe. And private."

Iris nodded and walked over to Barry, brushing a piece of lint off his shoulder. "I get it. I'm going to be working late tonight, so maybe that'll give you guys some time to figure things out." She pressed a kiss to the corner of Barry's mouth and then she turned to Leonard and smiled. "Maybe after, I can get an exclusive interview with Captain Cold."

Leonard jerked his head in a semblance of a nod, his fingers itching for his gun. Iris' smile turned somewhat sympathetic, and she picked her keys up from the side table before she went out the door, locking it behind her.

"Okay." Barry cleared his throat. "Now we can actually talk for real. I—Snart, are you okay?"

"What do you think?' Leonard snarled. "When someone walks away from you, it means they're done talking."

Barry folded his arms over his chest, discomfort racing across his face. "Normally, I get that, but what you're talking about is kinda personal, you know? Private. You can't say something like that and expect me to let you run off because you don't like my answer."

"You made yourself perfectly clear," Leonard said dryly. He raised his hand and gestured toward the door. "Are we done, or do you want to add unlawful imprisonment to your resume along with kidnapping?"

"I didn't _kidnap_ —" Barry stopped and exhaled a long, hard breath. "Crap. Okay. Let's start over."

Leonard's head was full of white noise, and he dropped his arm, turning to face Barry head on. "I'm gonna make it easy for you, kid. Step to the side, and I'm outta here." Barry parted his lips like he wanted to say something, but no words came out. He also didn't move, staying firmly between Leonard and the door. "Barry," Leonard said, far more calmly than he felt, "you have super speed and you're between me and the only exit. You have two seconds before this starts getting messy."

"Wait, wait, I—" Barry ran a hand through his hair. "Damn it, I'm all turned around." He blurred into lightning, and Leonard heard the door lock disengage. When he turned around, Barry was behind him, out of his space, closer to one of the chairs against the wall. "There. Is that better?"

Leonard's gaze flicked to the door and back to Barry. "Good enough. Thanks."

"Good." Barry shook his head and looked back at Leonard. "I can't believe you had me meet you in a bar to talk about this. I mean, really?"

Leonard shrugged. "Didn't think you'd actually show up."

Barry was a mess of half-movements, aborted and stilted, like he wasn't sure what he wanted to do. "I… don't think I even considered not going." He ran his hand through his hair. "That's why you asked me to meet you, isn't it? Because we have… I don't know, a soft spot for each other?"

Leonard scoffed. "That's what we're calling it?"

Barry turned toward Leonard again, his entire face open and desperate. "Snart—"

The tension faded from Leonard's shoulders, and all at once he was very, very tired. His timing was off—and he had a time machine to explore in the morning anyway. He needed to cut out while he still could. "You don't have to say anything else. I get it."

"But you don't," Barry said, and his eyes were wet, distressed, and wasn't that a kicker. Way to go, Leonard, you made the kid cry. "I love Iris, okay? I love who she made me, and—and having more than one bond is so statistically rare that we talked about them in advanced biometry—and, I mean, what if we _are_? What then?" Barry looked stricken, his face darkening. "What if we're _not_?"

The broken sincerity of Barry's voice made Leonard hesitate. There had been some part of him, deep down, that believed Barry didn't think about him unless he put himself in Barry's way, and guilt sank like an uncomfortable stone in his gut. This was what he did. He walked in and screwed up people's lives.

He stalked toward Barry as he narrowed his eyes, his attention laser-focused as he catalogued everything: the tuft of Barry's hair where he had been running his fingers through it, the way Barry's eyes dilated when Leonard stepped closer, the way a flush of color rose on his cheeks. 

"I'm going to take what I want," Leonard said softly, curling his gloved hand around the nape of Barry's neck. "And if we're not, we're not." Barry's hands came up at the last second to cradle Leonard's face, the heat of his palms bleeding through his gloves, and Leonard closed his eyes, taking the kiss he'd been craving since the first night they'd faced off in the woods.

The Communion happened instantaneously, slamming into Leonard and making him freeze in place. He was both anchored in his body and entirely torn away from it. Time seemed to freeze, and Leonard couldn't breathe until Barry did and they were more than they were before, len-and-barryiris, in a way that sank into his bones, in a way that was entirely metaphysical and impossible to wrap his head around.

When Leonard became aware of himself again, aware of his surroundings, they had fallen to their knees, panting against each other's mouths more than kissing, and when he tried to open his eyes, the light in the apartment was too bright, making him squint for a half-second before he squeezed his eyes shut again. Barry's mouth moved under his, stealing another kiss, and Leonard turned his face, dropping his forehead against Barry's shoulder. He'd lost time, but he couldn't tell if it was minutes or hours, and he was too overwhelmed to figure it out just then.

"That was...intense." Leonard licked his lips. "Guess I was right." He felt steadier, somehow, like something had finally slotted into place in his mind. He hadn't even known he was incomplete. 

Except in all the ways he had.

"Yeah," Barry agreed breathlessly. "I should've warned you, but the first time it happened to me, I was ten, and everything was already so overwhelming it didn't really matter." Barry was scrambling up to his feet, too fast for Leonard to appreciate, but then Barry was peeling off their gloves, his hands shaking as he grabbed Leonard's hands and tugged him over to the sofa, falling over his own feet in his excitement. Leonard landed half in Barry's lap, and Barry laughed, a low and content sound as he cupped Leonard's cheek again. He had no idea that Barry was so tactile. He had no idea how starved he was for it.

He pulled away, reaching out for the arm of the couch to steady himself, and sat down heavily. Barry climbed into Leonard's lap and pressed their foreheads together, cupping Leonard's face again. "Len, come on, stop pulling away, this part's important."

Leonard hated to admit it, but the touching was helping, made him feel a little less clammy, his heart settling into something like a normal tempo, his breath slowing. They sat together in silence for a few minutes, Barry touching Leonard's face like he was afraid Leonard was going to leave at any second and Leonard circling his fingers around Barry's wrists, delicate and careful.

"Iris is going to be so smug," Barry murmured, and Leonard twitched in reaction, caught off guard by Barry's voice. "She's been teasing me about my crush forever."

Leonard smirked, and it fit strange and tight on his face. "Crush, huh?"

"With the way you kissed me, you don't have any room to talk." Barry pulled away, but his smile was bright and excited. "I'm going to get different gloves. You know, between the three of us, we're all primary colors."

"How do you figure?" Leonard set his hand cautiously on Barry's thigh, since Barry had appropriated his lap, and got an even brighter smile in return.

"I've always associated Iris with yellow," Barry admitted, "and you and me are obvious." Barry's eyes widened, and he jumped off Leonard's lap, sparking a little as he zipped from one side of the room to the other. "Maybe you and Iris can touch in a few days, it would be amazing if the three of us all bonded together."

Leonard stood and licked his lips. "Barry—"

"This is going to make our supervillain-superhero thing a little weird, but I'm sure we can work it out, you'll just have to make it up to me if you tag me with your gun—"

Leonard shifted, flexing his fingers and closing them into fists as guilt swelled in his throat. "Barry—"

"Joe's going to flip, so you might not be invited to Sunday dinner, but I figure you're going to want some space anyway, and I'll try to remember to bring you leftovers—"

Leonard reached out and settled his hands on Barry's shoulders, finally getting Barry to pause and look back at him. "I'm leaving Central tomorrow. I won't be back."

Barry stared blankly at Leonard, confusion written across his face. He reached up to touch Leonard's hands on his shoulders and then paused, seeming to think better of it before he pulled away with a bitter laugh. "Right. Of course you're not staying. I don't know why I thought you would." He turned away and crossed his arms over his chest. "Couldn't you… at least wait until we settle? We're not who we _were_ , Len."

Leonard shook his head. "I can't stay here with you, Barry. There's something bigger that I have to deal with first."

Barry narrowed his eyes at Leonard. "We can't help each other navigate this if you're gone."

"I know," Leonard reached out and squeezed Barry's arms. "I'm sorry. I'm not good at any of this. But I have to go."

"Should've known feelings wouldn't be important to Captain Cold." Barry looked away, his eyes red-rimmed but dry. "You didn't even consider what I might have wanted."

"That isn't fair." Leonard awkwardly lowered his hands. "I shouldn't have called you out tonight. I just didn't want to leave without knowing."

"Right." Barry lowered his head, tightening his arms around himself. "You don't even see the problem, do you? You're just going to bond with me and then leave me and Iris to pick up the pieces."

"This wasn't meant to be a fairy tale," Leonard said, and he winced, wanted to pull the words back almost immediately.

"I don't want a fairy tale," Barry insisted. "I just want you to _stay_. I touched you because I want you to be part of my _life_ , not so you could teach me another lesson." Leonard averted his eyes, despising the way he could hear his father in Barry's words. In the next second, Barry was hugging him, one hand cradling the back of his head and pulling him in tight. "I'm sorry, that was cruel. I didn't mean it. I don't want to fight."

Leonard shook his head. "I deserved it." He was so close to changing his mind, to wrapping Barry in his arms and promising he'd work out the future that he knew it was time to go. He pulled away and looked at his watch—a couple of hours had passed after all, and he was late. "I've got to go, Barry."

Leonard was almost to the door when Barry spoke again. "Where are you going?"

Leonard turned toward Barry, his smile small and tight. He deserved the truth. "Mick and I are going to board a time machine and steal the greatest scores in history."

Barry laughed, and now Leonard could see his eyes growing damp, even as he turned his face to the side and rubbed his nose against his shoulder. "Bring me back a souvenir?"

Leonard nodded. "Yeah, kid. I can do that." He pushed through the door before he decided to stay, readjusting his coat as he walked down the hall. 

Barry didn't follow.

~*~

Barry pushed open the door and peeked his head into the bar, squinting against the dim light that all seedy bars and clubs seemed to have. He didn't know what it was with supervillains and bars, really—maybe it was an aesthetic choice. He went over to an empty table in the corner of the room and waited, tapping his fingers on the table as he looked around for a familiar face.

Mick Rory stepped out of the crowd and headed toward Barry, carrying a small case. He looked older, more tired, and Barry straightened in his seat, adrenaline making his heart race.

"Heatwave?"

Mick shook his head as he set the case on the table. "Can it, Sparky. Didn't call you here for a fight."

That only made Barry more nervous, and he awkwardly cleared his throat. "I don't know what you mean—"

Mick pinned him with a look, dark and tired, and Barry faltered to a stop. "Let's cut the small talk. I know who you are, and you know who I am. It's been a long time since I was the Heatwave you remember." He pushed the case toward Barry, and Barry stared down at it, unease crawling in his gut.

"What is this?"

"Snart said he promised you a souvenir. This was the only thing that asshole left behind." Mick shrugged. "Can't stand to look at it. Figured it would be better off with you."

Barry's heart sank, and he reached for the case with shaking hands, fumbling the latch twice before he was finally able to open it.

Len's cold gun and goggles were resting in a bed of foam, and Barry's eyes started to burn. He blinked away the tears, swallowing past the lump in his throat. "How did it happen?"

"He died saving the world." Mick scoffed. He stared off to Barry's right, gaze distant. "Big goddamned hero."

They sat in silence, Mick refusing to look at the gun and Barry unable to look away.

Eventually, Mick stood, his chair scraping against the floor. "I've got places to be. Keep on your toes, kid. Just because you and Snart had a thing doesn't mean I'm gonna be around to keep an eye on you."

Barry looked up at that, frowning at Mick. "I, uh. Didn't think you would." He closed the case and locked it. "Thanks for bringing this to me." 

Mick grunted and pushed his way back through the crowd. Barry followed Mick's lead, waiting until Mick left the bar before he followed suit, and it was only after he got out of the building that he felt safe enough to run.

If he was lucky, maybe there would be something for Cisco to vibe. If that was the case... then. Nothing was going to stop him from giving Leonard Snart a piece of his mind.

~*~

**Author's Note:**

> As always, come say hello to me on [Tumblr](http://www.moriavis.tumblr.com) or [Dreamwidth](http://www.lunesque.dreamwidth.org).


End file.
